The narrative ((narrative:
* 1.a story or account of events, experiences, or the like, whether true or fictitious.
* 2.a book, literary work, etc., containing such a story.
* 3.the art, technique, or process of narrating, or of telling a story: Somerset Maugham was a master of narrative.
* 4.a story that connects and explains a carefully selected set of supposedly true events, experiences, or the like, intended to support a particular viewpoint or thesis: to rewrite the prevailing narrative about masculinity; the narrative that our public schools are failing.))
A student of mine, after listening to my last Sunday call recording, asked why Jews turned to a different strategy than the slaves from Africa. Or Native Americans.
Parents want to help, but instead they push you deeper into the bull’s ear.
The expression, came from a student’s father, ((I found a meme that is running my life and I know where it comes from… wohooo.
“I have to prove: “what I know”, “what I can”, “that I am smart”, “that I work hard” etc. To show off.
As I can see it, this context was created by my father. As long as I remember he has been telling me this in Kurdish: “You are in the ears of the bull”. Meaning, not aware, not intelligent, do not amount for anything or being like a donkey.
No matter what I did, got a degree, was not dependent on them like my younger brother and sister, was one of the best in the military, started to make a living.
If you can only read one book in your whole life, read this book. Especially if you are a woman. But it can be very fundamentally revolutionary for a man as well, except I am not a man, so I can only guess.
We live as if things never changed. Even though we hear, read, that the only thing that is constant in life is change.
And yet, our minds, the machine-like part of us that cannot learn, won’t learn, and fancies itself YOU… our minds tell us, moment to moment, that life will remain the way it is in that moment.
Is that crazy or what?
When something bad happens, the reaction is not to the bad thing, but to the idea that the results of the bad thing are life-long.
When something good happens, the reaction is not to the good thing. It is to the idea, to the notion, to the ce
During the summer of 1966 I ran into a girl I knew from elementary school. Turns out she applied and was accepted to the same school I was going to start in that September.
We were having a chat. I remember thinking to myself: Compared to her I know everything… why am I going to school?
We both graduated. I am sure she still thinks she knows everything. My experience is that I know less and less as time goes by.
Whether you can identify with my 19 year old person, or my 69 year old person, and to what degree will be important, so jot it down.
This article is about the inner workings of a human… that if you get it wrong, the price you pay for the error is your life.
Is a human like a assembled faucet? When it drips you have to replace the whole thing?
I energize my water in a 5 gallon (20 liter) plastic containers with a spigot.
The spigot is replaceable, but I am not strong enough to unscrew it. I have the replacement spigot… I bought it a year ago, but is still sitting on my kitchen counter. I still need to be mindful that the old spigot, which is just another word for water tap… still drips.
Good question, right? You were just about asking that… Gotcha!
OK, simple question, simple answer.
First I tell you what I am not:
I am not a Kabbalist. Kabbalists study, practice, and teach Kabbalah full time, for many many years. It could be even said that being a Kabbalist is like an insider… you need to be appointed.
I am not a teacher of Kabbalah
I am not a guru
I am not someone who knows a lot about Kabbalah but doesn’t live it.
OK, then what am I?
Well, I was first introduced to Kabbalah by a friend of mine (who is accidentally out of my life now… but more about it later.) My introduction happened by
I am getting a lot of requests to teach people how to become people who live a life worth living, who excel in all four areas, all four pillars of the good life.
My answer is almost always: Sorry I can’t help you.
But why?
Today I got lucky and got my answer in a pristine form.
My University classmate, Panni called me. We talk once a month. She is, of course an architect: we were classmates in architecture school, a five year study.
The narrative ((narrative:
together with the 
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